Unpleasant
by taylortot
Summary: Following Akihito's recent youmu transformation, Mirai sets off in an attempt to comfort him and bring him up out of the depression he's fallen into. Akirai. Super fluffy.


**I do not own Kyoukai no Kanata. **

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**Unpleasant**

He lay there in the soft light that fell in beams from behind the clouds, sprawled out on the weathered bench with his hands tucked behind his head and a book folded open against his chest. She thought that he looked somewhat like an angel, if her idea of angels were anything to go by. Golden hair glowing in the twilight, the pinkish hues shadowing over the calmness on his face.

Well, most people would sooner call him a demon than anything else if they knew who he was, but to Mirai, he was just Kanbara-senpai, a boy with a creepy glasses fetish. And when she looked at him, sometimes she could see flashes of her own reflection, her own loneliness, her own inwardly directed hatred, and her stomach twisted. She was done running away from him, especially now, when he seemed to need her the most.

Quietly, she walked forward, her breath deep though she was worried. Her pale hair fluttered in the wind and she adjusted her glasses slightly on her nose as she came to a stop before him.

His eyes fluttered open, probably sensing her proximity, and the shock on his face was apparent when he saw her peering down at him with a saddened, yet softened, expression.

"Kuriyama-san," he murmured, and just the way he said her name - like a caress, like a prayer - strengthened her resolve.

"Let's go," she said gently, simply, trying her best not to fidget. She was getting better at meeting his stare.

"What?"

She fixed him with a quick look of distain, but couldn't bring herself to feel any real malice; after what she had done to Yui Inami, not only had she been inconsolable, but she'd also been completely and utterly alone. It had been awful and she wouldn't let him go through that same pain. She wanted him to know that she was there, that she wanted to be there, for whatever he needed. Whenever he needed it.

"You haven't been at school for almost a week now, Senpai," she said, focusing all her energy in her eyes, hoping they could convey everything she couldn't say. _I'm worried about you. I'm here if you want to talk. Please don't run away. _"And I'm hungry."

At that, he shifted, pulling his hands out from behind his head and propping himself up on his forearm, the smallest smile flitted across his face, genuine and almost amused. "You're always hungry, Kuriyama-san."

"I'll buy," she said; she didn't have much money left, but even with her Spirit World warrior license revoked for the month, she'd use it to make Senpai feel better. Anything to bring back the authenticity of his smile and the bright warmth in his eyes.

He sat up fully, closing the book on his chest and swinging his legs around so that he was facing her. The toes of their shoes touched and her heart fluttered slightly, all too perceptively. Even when she forced her mind elsewhere, the fact that they were touching even in the briefest, most indirect of ways, cut through everything else.

"No, I'll buy," he insisted. When she made to protest, he held up a hand to silence her. "I know Mitsuki helped you to find a job recently, but you need all the cash you can get. You don't need to waste it on me."

That put her out. "It wouldn't be a waste," she said shortly. A pause. "Senpai, I _want_ to buy you dinner." Her voice burned with all the warmth she felt, desperate to make him understand.

Another brief, flickering smile. Her heart ached to see his usual grin. "Fine."

She felt her cheeks flush slightly with the pleasure that he conceded as she stepped away to let him stand. His hands - delicate hands, really, but strong, she thought, remembering the times he had grasped hers, remembering how his longer fingers had curled around her tiny palm - deftly slid his book into her bag, a sort of secret look on his face, before they found a home in the pockets of his pants.

Fleetingly, she wondered what it would feel like to hold his hand for no reason. To grab and hold that sacred part of him with her own fingers, born out of a desire to be close rather than a desperation that urged them to run from an enemy, or a small show of thanks. A part of her wanted to memorize the creases in his hands, to feel how they felt against hers. How their fingers would interlock; how they were just two pieces of the same puzzle. Fitted for each other.

She kept her hands folded in front of herself, though, as they walked to a small noodle shop just a few blocks down from the park. Silence was their companion, aside from the scuffles of their shoes on the concrete or the gust of a breeze that tousled their hair. Kanbara-senpai felt very far away though his elbow was just inches from hers and she tried to think of ways to bring him back to earth, but each attempt ended with her lip between her teeth and regret that she couldn't find the right words.

He didn't speak again to her until they'd taken their orders at the shop, seated across from each other at a small table in the corner of the room. The inside of her foot was pressed against the toe of his shoes and no matter how much she tried to dismiss it, she was still all too aware.

"How did you find me?" he asked her curiously.

She almost sighed in relief, glad to see that he was in a realm of his mind where she could reach him again. "There were only so many places you would go," she told him precisely, trying to fight off the blush she felt coming on under his stare. "When you weren't at home, I stopped by to see if you were at Ayaka-san's shop. And when you weren't there, I. . .I knew, somehow. . ." she trailed off, knowing he could read the rest of her sentence on her face.

"Why?" he prodded.

Confusion muddled everything, even as he shifted and his knee brushed against hers beneath the table top. "Why?" she reiterated, blushing now at the unexpected contact.

"Why were you looking for me?" he clarified. Now his eyes seemed sharp, piercing through any pretenses she might try to put up. Mirai didn't want to build walls around herself, not with him. She wanted him to see her as she was, and if he was going to understand, then she had to bare her thoughts fully.

"You've missed a lot of school, Senpai, after you. . ." she winced and glanced down to gaze at the table, unsure how to broach the topic.

He sighed, sounding frustrated. "You can talk about my transformation, Kuriyama-san, I'm not a toddler to be coddled. You don't have to sugar-coat things because I was there." His voice got softer. "I know what I did."

She nodded and pursed her lips. "I-I'm sorry."

"If you came to find me to give me my schoolwork, I really appreciate it." He was gentle now, almost revering in the way he spoke to her.

Her hair whipped against her face as she shook her head. "No, that's not why I came. I. . ." she sighed and swallowed her apprehension before lifting her eyes to him. "I'm so _worried_ about you, Senpai."

The words hung in the air, almost-but-not-quite-awkward, and then he shifted in his seat again. This time, when their knees brushed, she pressed forward, maintaining the contact. Her face went up in flames as she quickly looked away, but if it bothered him, he said nothing. His knee remained resting against hers, feeding her the warmth and comfort she desired, helpless to the electricity that seemed to crackle in the empty space between them.

Then, came his voice, soft and meek. "Kuriyama-san," he said and the tension seemed to thicken, "I'm sorry to make you worry."

Their food arrived before she could reply, and she was grateful for the distraction of the meal. She didn't dare move, afraid that any shift would jostle her away from Kanbara-senpai's knee, knowing full-well that she would sit there all night just to touch him like this. He seemed content for the moment; the melancholy aura he'd been radiating earlier seemed more peaceful now, she thought, peeking up at him while she ate uncharacteristically slow.

Her eyes wandered to the window, aware of Senpai's physical contact to an almost painful degree, hoping to busy her mind with other things. The clouds were rolling in faster now, the wind picking up as it swayed the little trees outside of the shop. A few raindrops began to splatter down onto the ground, staining the concrete. She could see Senpai in the reflection of the glass, the way his shoulders hunched and drooped slightly, the downward tilt of his chin. The urge to reach across the tablet and lift his head up flared in her fingers and she had to pause for a moment to gather herself.

He finished his food before she did, a rare thing, really, and though she was lost deeply in her thoughts while she ate, his voice sliced cleanly and clearly through the noise in her head, through everything around her. It always had.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked, eyeing the bowl in front of her.

She took another bite, deliberately large to answer his question. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"I'm not the one who usually ravenously devours every edible thing in sight now eating at the pace of a snail." He was almost teasing her.

"I'm a little bit more distracted than usual!" she defended, retaliating, the blush on her face nearly giving her away.

A frown pulled his lips down. "Is something bothering you?" It was not hard to see that he was thinking through things, probably trying to decipher if anything was serious enough to curb her unwavering appetite. She thought that she even saw a flicker of regret in his expression but she quickly dismissed any brooding he was doing.

"No," she told him with enough honesty that he believed her, stuffing a bite into her mouth.

His lips twitched again, seemingly relieved. "That's good."

She wondered if he was thinking about the way their knees were touching. Did it feel like this for him too? Did the butterflies make it hard for him to swallow every bite of his food? Was the air thick and full of static like an impending lightning storm? With a bit of effort, she shoved the last of her food down and finished off her water. By this time, it was raining steadily outside, and through the mist of her thoughts she dreaded having to walk home in this weather.

"If we walk under the overhangs, we should stay pretty dry," Kanbara-senpai said, apparently reading her thoughts.

She nodded and pushed her bowl away from her. "Good idea." The absence of him was immediate as he stood up, the place where his knee had rested against hers now left to the cold. Mirai struggled to maintain a neutral composure, all the while feeling the loss, wishing she didn't feel so desperate to be near him.

After paying for their meals, they walked down the street, darting to each of the overhangs, managing to completely get soaked in the process. After a while, the aversion to the rain seemed pretty pointless and they trudged through the downpour with grim determination, both willing to bear it for each other.

Mirai realized once they'd reached the part of town where they'd have to separate, that she didn't want to leave him alone. She hadn't even really reached him yet; he was still remembering, still dwelling on his transformation. It was all over his face. Fearing that he'd only retreat farther into himself, she opened her mouth to ask if she could walk him home, when he unexpectedly nudged her shoulder, sending a jolt of surprise and warmth through her.

"Mind if I walk you home?" he asked loudly over the sound of the rain. His eyes were distant, but concerned. He wanted to make sure she got home alright; it had nothing to do with his not wanting to be alone at all. She was both pleased and upset.

"Alright," she allowed, hugging her bag to her chest. "But you should stay until the rain stops."

He considered it for a moment before slowly nodding, giving in to her condition. By the time they finally reached her apartment, they were both shaking from the cold and silent mirth; the puddles had been too much to ignore and since they'd already been dripping, a splashing war had ensued. Mirai unlocked her front door and stepped inside as she kicked off her shoes, allowing Kanbara-senpai to follow her in but he remained out on the doorstep, looking stricken.

Panic rose in her throat. "Senpai?"

"I'm sorry I make you worry, Kuriyama-san," he said, loud enough that she could make out his words through the sound of the rain. For the first time since she'd found him in the park earlier that night, he looked frazzled and afraid, the apprehension and loathing for himself flashing in his caramel eyes.

She became angry, instantly, and her words were hot as they lashed out at him. With a deep breath, she marched close up to him, wishing she was taller. "This isn't _you_, Senpai. Don't be this person. I worry about you because you're the first dependable person I've had in a long time! I feel warm and happy when you're near me! I can forget that I'm not normal and that I've done bad things! You shouldn't be sorry about it."

He winced.

Her anger softened and she boldly took one of his hands in between both of hers. "You're not a mindless monster, Senpai, no matter what you tell yourself. I. . .I would have been dead if it weren't for you. I would have jumped," she whispered, thinking back to the day they met on the roof of the school. Energy seemed to pulse under her fingers as she held onto him. "I worry about you, all the time, and I won't stop. No matter what you do, you'll always just be Senpai to me, and I will always worry about you."

His hand curled around hers slowly as he stared down at her face, so close to his. She'd said a lot more than she intended to, but she didn't want to take back a single word. His face was already softer than any expression he'd worn tonight and his breath was warm against her cheek as he leaned in closer. Her heart was pounding, sprinting, screaming. A tremor shivered down her spine as his eyes closed briefly and he sighed.

"Kuriyama. . .san. . ."

His eyes opened lazily, his gaze darting toward her lips and lingering and Mirai wondered if there were any words at all for what she felt. Her mind seemed blank, and all she knew was that a boy who would risk everything was close enough that she could feel his breath and almost hear the pulse of his heart.

"You should probably get inside," she whispered, locked in his stare.

He nodded slightly and then licked his lips.

Her stomach shook. Was he getting closer? "We'll get sick if we don't change out of these wet clothes."

She stepped back again to let him in but he followed, closely, and when he hesitated, she pressed her lips to his. He was gentle, wary. A soft sigh caught in an exhale as he pulled away infinitesimally and came back again. The hand that she wasn't gripping onto slowly came up to her face and he brushed his knuckles along her jaw, sweeping back her wet hair. She trembled, assaulted by the overwhelming sensations that fluttered through her system. The dominant feeling was a deep-rooted need to be closer, to press against him until he belonged to her, and her blood began to run hot and fast through her veins.

He shakily cupped her jaw, tilting her head back a little farther as he stepped toward her. She sighed and eagerly kissed him back, dropping his hand in favor of tangling her clammy hands in his wet shirt, pulling him tight against her. Now free to use his other hand, he cradled her face completely, sighing again, his chest swelling with unfathomable relief and a distinct thrill of joy.

"I'm sorry," he said breathlessly, kissing the bridge of her glasses, the tip of her nose, the top of her lip. "I'm sorry. You're right and I'm sorry."

She reached around him, locking him in her embrace. "I'm glad you see how much of a dummy you are," she muttered against his mouth, feeling excitement rush through her as her tongue brushed his lips.

"Hmmm." He sighed again and kissed her thoroughly, fingers cupping the back of her head as he poured out his heart the only way he was certain she would read it.

Her hands fisted in the back of his shirt when he began to pull away, peppering the edges of his mouth with hers, feeling as though letting him step out of the circle of her arms would mean that this never happened. "You're soaked through," she mumbled.

"I think you're worse off than I am, Kuriyama-san," he said, definitely teasing her as she relented her attack. A familiar sparkle was back in his eye and even though his kisses had completely warmed her, there was still a blooming relief in her chest, her heart sighing at the expression on his face. "I found more puddles than you."

She was slightly indignant. "Th-that's not true! Senpai, I splashed you too!"

His expression was warm, hazy, as he brushed his lips against hers. "I think I've at least graduated to Kanbara, hmm?"

Her blush spread from neck to hairline. "K-K-Kanbara-senpai."

He sighed but smiled at her. "A work in progress then. Let's dry off."

Once both of them were considerably drier, hair toweled off and de-tangled, they decided to watch television. Only twenty minutes in, however, Mirai started to yawn, her eyes drooping slightly, her head resting in the hollow of Senpai's shoulder. She couldn't help her drowsiness; being dry and warm and tucked neatly against the object of her affections was luring her to sleep even as she marveled at the security she felt.

"You need to go to bed, Kuriyama-san," he said, glancing down at her. She felt his eyes peruse over her hair, heard the amused tremor in his voice when he spoke.

"W-will you come with me?" she murmured softly, turning her head to look blearily up into his face.

He blushed and scratched at his neck. "S-sure."

She sighed gently and rose, swaying on her feet as she turned off the TV. Senpai's quiet mirth had a smile spreading across her face and she placed her small hand at the bend in his lower back urging him forward. After all, it was still raining outside and she'd made him promise to stay until it stopped. At the rate it was going, he was going to have to spend the night and she had absolutely no objections to that.

Her room was small, modest, as was the rest of her apartment. She curled up on the mattress and patted the empty spot next to her, looking up at the half-youmu boy. "You should get some sleep too, Sen. . .K-Kanbara-senpai."

He grinned at her conscious effort to use his name and sat down, folding his legs under him. She removed her glasses and folded them, setting them aside before hunkering down and smothering her face against her favorite pillow. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel his gaze on her, roaming her face, her shoulders, the shallow curve of her hip. A shudder worked its way down her spine.

"Are you cold?" he asked tenderly.

Her eyes slid open slightly, meeting his caramel gaze immediately. A blush flooded her cheeks with color as she diverted her stare to where his hand sat on the mattress next to him. She remembered thinking about his hands earlier and the unrelenting urge to touch him took a hold of her. Gingerly, she moved her bandaged hand across the space between them before resting her fingers on top of his.

"I'm not," she replied finally, sleepily. The rain splattered against her window in the background.

After a few moments, he said, "I worry about you too, Kuriyama-san."

She swallowed and nodded against the pillow. "I-I know. That's why you came after me."

He smiled and then he was lying on his side, facing her, his hand now turned over to hold hers. In an unhurried movement, he brought her fingers to his mouth, his breath fanning across her knuckles, and then pressed his lips to her palm. She bit her lip at the jump in her stomach.

"Thank you," he whispered, then kissed her finger tips, "for looking for me today." A grin flashed across his face, a playful expression. "You look strange without your glasses on, you know."

It was incredible, she thought, how fascinating his lips could be. How much she wanted to feel them press against her hair, her jaw, the column of her throat. Absently, she reached out and tugged him toward her, their faces close enough that their breath could mingle. Her eyes slid shut.

"I'm not going to bend to your perverted will, Senpai, don't be unpleasant. Now shut up and let me go to sleep."

He chuckled, clearly not done. "Is this so unpleasant?" he asked breathlessly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "How about this?" He pressed his lips to her eyebrow.

"Seriously, _seriously_, unpleasant," she informed him, peeking one eye open. "I can't fall asleep at all."

"Hmm," he hummed, "well, as long as you're awake. . ."

She sighed contentedly when he kissed her. "Unpleasant," she whispered.

His hand settled on her hip and pulled her closer, their knees bumping against each other. "Hmmm," he agreed, brushing his mouth softly against hers. She traced his jaw with her fingertips, deciding that Senpai's lips were acceptably fascinating indeed.

Once he was through with her, he settled his lips against her forehead and her breath washed over the expanse of his throat, an arm slung over his waist to keep him there. "You'll come to school tomorrow, won't you?" she mumbled, fingers tangled in the back of his T-shirt.

"Yes," he said, running his fingers through her pale hair methodically, his mouth caressing her forehead as he spoke.

"Good." She felt sluggish and heavy, but her chest was light and warm. His fingers combing through her hair were gentle and domestic and _affectionate_, things that she hadn't been able to feel before, at least, not in a very long time. Did he feel as safe with her as she felt with him? Nothing else seemed to matter to her, as long as he was happy and safe in her arms.

Kanbara-senpai could only ever be an angel in her eyes. Even when he looked in a mirror and saw the demon, hated the part of himself that craved destruction and chaos, she would be there with the reassurance of her hand and a deep understanding of his feelings. They'd never have to go through something like this alone again.

She decided that she could get used to that.


End file.
